Identity
by AhemtheSaint
Summary: Chihiro cannot remember faces, names, identities. Haku is trying to trigger her memory, and finding out the cause, all the while trying to fit into the modern world, becoming Chihiro's best friend and discovering each other all over again.
1. Forgotten

Identity

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Chapter One - Forgotten

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BEFORE YOU READ: Miyazaki (the creator of Spirited Away) has stated that when Chihiro goes out from the tunnel, she doesn't remember anything that happened in the spirit world. Also, Miyazaki owns Spirited Away and whatnot. You know the drill.

P.S.: I had just watched Howl's Moving Castle when I wrote this, so Haku's and Howl's personalities might… blur…, mostly just meaning that Haku won't be as serious as he was in Spirited Away.

-Chihiro-

"Chihiro." A tall girl stood before me, smiling snidely. I was in front of the supermarket, buying groceries. _Strange, _I thought to myself. I was sure that she was my classmate- I've probably known her since the day I started my new school. Yet I couldn't bring myself to remember who this girl was.

Ever since five years ago, when I was ten and my family had just moved, something changed in me. I can remember the colors of the rainbow, and all about the books I read and fractions and what pillows are… and yet, I cannot remember. I cannot remember my teachers' names or my classmates' names. I cannot remember most of the people I interact with every day, I cannot seem to recall their faces or their voices or _anything_ to do with their personality.

My parents, whose names I still cannot remember in a fluent manner, put me into therapy. I didn't show signs of depression (yet I have no friends), nor do I seem to have anything physically wrong with me. They eventually just passed it all off as 'forgetfulness', 'emotional impact from moving', and ultimately a 'dissociative disorder'.

"Yes?" I asked the girl in front of me.

Her lips curled. "Do you know my name?" I gave her a hard stare. I may not remember people, but I certainly remember what they _do. _I've been asked this question by people, in mean and nice ways alike, endlessly.

"No. And what of it?" I asked, my voice hardening.

She gave a cold, hard laugh. "What _cheek_ from such a retard."

Something clicked in my mind. This girl (was it Yumi? Rumi? Or perhaps Hina…) was the girl that always bullied me. I couldn't remember who she was for the life of me, and so she used this as an advantage- because she got away with it every single time.

She grabbed my arms and threw me into the alleyway beside the supermarket, so that no one could see us. She kicked me in the stomach and kept kicking me until I spewed out some blood.

"God, I can't believe they let you in school, a freak like _you._" She spat. She knelt down beside me and slapped my face, hard. I let out an involuntary groan. "You should be left somewhere to rot," she whispered, a horrible glint in her eyes when she saw that I realized what she was implying. "Somewhere where no one would ever look. Somewhere where no one can save your sorry ass."

She kicked me in the face and I blacked out.

-

I groaned. My body was aching and I could taste blood in my mouth. My eyes fluttered open and the first thing I thought was that I was craving for some food.

Where was I? I looked frantically around. In front of me was a strange, small statue of some sort in front of a large, dark tunnel.

I walked cautiously in front of it, partly from the bodily pain and partly from the strange mood it filled me with. The wind blew into the direction of the tunnel, giving me chills down my spine and ushering me as if pulling me in… and I realized that I was experiencing déjà vu. It was like this every time I tried to remember someone's name.

Something tightened in my heart- it was as if I lost something here. After a few moments, I decided to make my way back home- slowly, of course, with my injuries.

When I got home, Mom was in tears at the sight of me. I went to my room and pulled a pillow over my head, trying to drown out her sobbing. I fingered my shiny hair band that laid on my nightstand, a gift from someone warm- someone I did not remember.

-

"Tunnel?" Dad exclaimed, when I at last asked him about the place that I swear I've been at before. "Ah, remember when we first came here? And we went into the tunnel and saw that old amusement park? Oh, and when we went out and there was dust all over the car and we were declared _missing_ for a few months!" He shook his head, chuckling. "Most interesting few months we had. Didn't remember any of it."

I furrowed my brow in concentration. Some of what he said seemed familiar, but I couldn't bring myself to remember it at all. Everything from the dust to the declaration of us missing I remembered, vividly in fact, but nothing about going inside the tunnel or the 'old amusement park'.

Mom looked at the clock. "Oh, Chihiro, you're going to be late for school. You shouldn't be late on your first day back." Mom had insisted that I stayed at home from school for at least a week (with quite a good bit of acting, I managed to stretch it to two weeks) to heal and get over the 'emotional' trauma. I was bullied the worst I've ever been bullied yet.

I quickly wolfed down my breakfast, went out, took my bike, and rode to school. I went into my classroom with minutes to spare. I sat lazily in isolation (no one wanted to talk to me) when a deep, clear voice cut through my lethargy.

"Chihiro?"

I glanced behind me. To my surprise, the boy that said my name held the most vivid face I have ever seen. Dark hair, a pale face. Every line on his face, every wrinkle and color I took in. It was so strange, to know for once that I was _sure_ to remember this face…

"Yes?" I asked, still in mild shock over my sudden revelation of my sudden interest in him.

He smiled. "I'm Nigihayami Kohakunushi. I'm the new student. I heard you were taking time off from school."

I nodded, already feeling down. Kohakunushi- I could barely remember names with two syllables, let alone five. "Do you have a nickname or anything…?" I asked.

He smiled. "You… You can call me Haku." He looked at me as though he was expecting something, but when all he found with confusion in my clouded eyes, his smile faded a bit.

"Kohakunushi, what are you doing, talking with the class retard?" A loud voice carried over. I glanced at the owner. To my surprise, I immediately remembered who she was- not quite the name, I still couldn't recall it, but I knew that it was my personal tormentor, the one who left me to rot in front of the tunnel.

Haku's eyes narrowed. The girl looked taken back- I assumed Haku was fairly nice to her in my two weeks of absence.

"Chihiro's not a retard." He said in a soft, cold voice. The girl looked a bit unsure, but scoffed and looked away to talk to her friends.

"Thank you." I said. Haku beamed. "You know, you don't have to talk with me." I added, as an afterthought.

To my surprise, Haku looked offended. "Why not?"

"I.. Well, what she… Do you know why she called me a retard?" I asked, tentatively.

Haku gave me a sheepish smile. "Yes. The fact that you can't remember identities?"

"Yeah…" I was about to say more, but the teacher came in at this moment.

"It's time for homeroom!" The teacher said. Everyone scrambled to their seats.

"You know, Chihiro, I hope you don't forget me." Haku said, before returning to his seat. For a strange reason, I felt that I won't- not him. Not this face that was so real to me.

-

I remembered Haku's name the next day. It exhilarated me when I walked into the classroom, and I saw Haku. I remembered our whole conversation and his face and his _name_ (Nigihayami Kohakunushi- I can repeat this over and over in my mind and never forget it).

"Good morning, Haku." I said brightly. Some of my classmates cast dark looks at me but didn't say anything. The bully looked bewildered at my sudden remembrance.

"Good morning, Chihiro." He smiled. Before I could make conversation with him, the teacher came in and called us to our seats. Scowling to myself, I made a mental note to come earlier to class so I could converse with Haku.

After school, as I was packing, Haku sat down beside me.

"Hey."

I smiled. I felt as if I could smile endlessly around him.

Haku had a thoughtful expression on his face. He took my books out of my hands and stuffed them into my backpack without bothering to ask for permission.

"Chihiro, why don't you remember?" Haku asked.

Dread filled me. Why was he interrogating me? Suddenly, I knew why he was being so nice to me. Usually, I was either ignored or bullied. But sometimes, people will try to befriend me. Sometimes it was out of pity, but mostly it was out of curiosity. Innocent it may be, but I didn't appreciate being something of a dancing bear; the freak who couldn't remember people, here for his entertainment.

"Remember what?" I must've had a cold tone to my voice because Haku looked up from my backpack with wide, frantic eyes.

"I don't mean- I didn't, I meant…" Haku frowned, apparently at a loss for words. "What I meant to say," Haku said finally, after some consideration, "is that… Chihiro, you don't remember me, do you?"

I looked at him, astounded. So I knew Haku before? "We've met before?"

Haku sighed. "Nevermind. Listen, do you want to get some ice cream?"

"Wait- well, I mean, yes, ice cream's good, but-"

"I want vanilla." Haku slung my backpack across his shoulders and walked out the door. I had the sinking suspicion that he didn't want me to ask about how he knew me.

He glanced back at me as I was still sitting there, wondering how best to approach the subject without him pulling back and changing the subject, or just plain ignoring it.

"Coming? I have your homework as hostage, you know." Haku shrugged the shoulder with my backpack on it to indicate the reality of his threat.

Hesitantly, I stood up and followed him out to get ice cream. I could feel stares of disbelief from my classmates bore into the back of my head.

-

I licked on my strawberry ice cream carefully so it didn't drip and looked at Haku from the corner of my eyes. He was eating his vanilla ice cream in a peaceful manner, and was glancing out into the sky with a longing expression. Haku looked my way and caught my eye, grinning. I blushed and quickly averted my gaze.

"So," I said conversationally, "What do you want to talk about?"

Haku shrugged. "It's up to you."

Then we lapsed into silence again, though I watched him carefully over my ice cream. He stared back in unnervingly.

"Well…" I said slowly. Haku tilted his head to show that he was listening. "So, where have we met before?"

Haku smirked. "I don't think you'd believe my answer."

I frowned. I snapped my fingers, then in a very uncharacteristically enthusiastic manner, I exclaimed, "I know!" Haku's eyes widened, a small, uncertain smile creeping onto his face. "You must've been a bully when I was in elementary school, and, maybe, you've moved to come to make amends because you felt so guilty about it!"

This idea struck me as a stroke of genius, but Haku just gaped at me for a minute, then started laughing.

After he calmed down a bit (with the help of my glaring eyes), Haku wiped the laugh tears from his eyes. "Absurd, you are, Chihiro. That was _ridiculously_ random."

My face fell. "Well, then, honestly- I don't remember."

Haku gave me a strange look. Then, in a soft voice, he said, "It's okay, Chihiro. I have faith that you'll someday remember me. Once you meet someone, you never really forget them."

-

Being with Haku was strange. The strange part wasn't because I could actually remember who he was at the first glance or remember his name with ease- it was more of _how_ Haku was. For one, his appearance was very gentlemanlike and polite, as his speech. He has dark green eyes (how many Japanese people have green eyes? I guess I just assume he also has some other heritage in him), and whenever he's in direct sunlight, his hair shines green. Haku's hair was cut in a very neat fashion, and often times he would let slip language that was too old-fashioned for kids our age at this time.

Another thing that really surprised me was how he seemed to enjoy being in my presence. Being socially challenged due to my 'condition', I was not fit for outings. More often than not I would read books, or stay at home and help my parents with dinner or sorts of things like that. I disliked going out with a passion; school was hard enough because of how I am, I didn't fancy being made fun of or getting pity stares by choice.

Haku, however, seemed to want to hang around me any chance he got (though he passionately avoided my questions about where we've met before; he says he thinks it'd be cheating). Many of my classmates (especially the female ones; Haku's polite demeanor attracted them because most boys were rude and rough) were angered by how much interest the 'New Kid' showed in me.

I've also noticed that my bully was _extremely_ jealous. I guess she took a liking to Haku, and even though he showed no interest in her, that was his downfall; the less he wanted her, the more she seemed to want him. However, I didn't get bullied again- I was always with Haku after school when he walked me home; she didn't have a chance.

The things we talked about (besides my constant nagging about where I've met him before) weren't what I expected to be subjects a fifteen year old was interested in. Haku told me a bunch about folklore and myths; he was a fantastic storyteller. He was also very smart in his stories; never did he mention names, instead he mentioned what they reigned over or what they did, or some other simple thing that I could remember easily, such as The River Spirit or That One Frog That Was Extremely Annoying. I remembered them all despite my problem with identities. I suspected it had something to do with the fact that it was Haku who told them to me.

Haku had turned into my best friend. He claimed that my house was on his way to school anyways, so we walked together to school, even though we both knew that he lived on the other side of town. I've only seen his house twice and I never went into his house, which was humble and small and looked very cozy, though I've waited outside as Haku rushed in to get things.

After school, Haku and I would always leave school together. Sometimes we went to eat ice cream, watch a movie, order some food, or just hang out at my place. Luckily, my parents were usually out until the late evenings, because they seemed to worship Haku. When they first met Haku, I introduced him to them (saying his full name) and they looked at him in surprise and practically tripped over themselves trying to coax him into staying for dinner, which he did. Eventually, it became a routine where my parents wouldn't even bother asking Haku if he wanted to stay for dinner; it was just common knowledge that he would.

I suppose my parents wouldn't have approved of Haku, with my spending almost literally all my waking moments with him (and sleeping too, once we got into homework; being with Haku also improved my grades dramatically), if it hadn't been for the fact that I could remember Haku so easily.

Once, when Haku was asleep while I was only half-asleep on his shoulder in front of the TV, Mom had come in to clean up the living room. From the corner of my half-closed eyes, I saw Dad walk in and peer at us with a strained look on his face. "Do you think that's practical?" He whispered to Mom.

Mom gave him a glare. Hissing, she snapped, "Haku practically saved Chihiro- she always remembers him! And not only him, remember when her teacher called us to tell us about how much she's been improving in remembering things? I think hanging out with Haku has helped her _a lot_!"

Dad opened his mouth to defend himself, but Mom shot him such a dirty look that he immediately shut up and went off to the kitchen in fear.

-

"Are you seriously saying that you don't know how to play chess?!" I gasped. Haku peered at me over his book to chuckle quietly, as if he thought I was too naïve to underestimate him.

"I may not know how to play, but once I learn, I bet I can eat your arse." Haku said. I had encouraged him to use more slang, or at least modern phrases and he was obliging, though I noticed he seemed surprised every time he did. In some ways, I think I'm even more normal than him.

"Ass, not arse. I'll teach you how to play chess, and _then_ see if you can beat me!" I grinned. I was very good at chess. I've beaten even my dad, who often boasted that he was undefeated until he made the mistake of teaching me.

Haku slammed his book shut. I've realized now that even though he was quite stoic, sometimes he'll get very excited over a common thing, like chess. For someone so smart, Haku was incredibly dense sometimes. Once, Dad had tried to get Haku to watch a basketball game with him, only to learn that Haku didn't know the rules or anything about basketball, except that it had, in Haku's own words, "…something to do with baskets and balls?"

"How about this," Haku said. "If you teach me how to play chess, then I'll teach you how to play Go."

I frowned. "Go? What's that?"

It was Haku's turn to be surprised. "You don't know how to play Go?" I shook my head.

"Go tests your logic, your instincts, it's just wonderful! It's the most interesting game in the world!" Haku exclaimed. I highly doubted that; Haku found a lot of dull things interesting, such as reading incredibly boring books about philosophy and science and whatnot, and really old-fashioned things like the koto.

I agreed to his deal and he set out to buy me a large, oak go board with marble go stones. When I looked at it, I gave a sound of recognition.

"I know! This is from that one anime, _Hikaru No Go, _isn't it?" I've taken to watch more television and anime and such since I could remember the names and identities better now.

Haku just gave me a quizzical look. "What's anime?"

Sometimes I wonder if Haku's really from modern Japan.

-

Author's Note: I was going to make this chapter into, like, fifteen pages, but I've decided not to overwhelm… There's a three day waiting period before I can post stories up. Ugh.

Anyways, Go is that one really ancient game from _Hikaru No Go_. I'm a 1 Dan, by the way. Hehe. (Gloat)

Koto is this Japanese harp/zither. I don't know much about it- just that it's Japanese and it's traditional and such. And don't worry, Go and Koto has next to nothing to do with the story; it's just a little device I put in to show how old fashioned Haku is.

Who can find the quote that's from the movie? Hmm? HMM? Hint: in the movie, it's not Haku who says it.

Anyways, PLEASE REVIEW! Constructive criticism is appreciated! But, you know, I understand if you can't find any mistakes here… (Chuckles) Just kidding!

Again: REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW. (The more reviews, the more enthusiastic I will be about writing this story, nudge nudge)

Updated: 7/29/09 Revised a lot of grammar mistakes, and diction choices.


	2. Flight

Identity

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Chapter Two- Flight

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Author's Note: So this chapter is in Haku's point of view. The chapters will alternate between Chihiro's and Haku's point of views. I tried to make Haku and Chihiro's way of speech different; Chihiro is more passive and Haku more active (is that the right term? I don't know). But I'm pretty sure there's a large difference in the way they speak, so it's easier to remember who's point of view it is.

-Haku-

A strong breeze touched my skin and the trees rattle tauntingly in response to the wind. I groan inwardly. I _really_ want to fly again; I haven't been a dragon since I left the bathhouse. I wonder if I _could_ still turn into a dragon. Probably not; the gravity in this world feels so heavy compared to the bathhouse.

I mentally smirk at myself. I was originally in this world, wasn't I? Had I been so accustomed to the bathhouse that I couldn't even get used to the gravity of my home-world?

"I think we're too early." Chihiro said, glancing at her watch. We are watching a movie, something about a ring or whatever.

It's been a few months since I've been here and Chihiro doesn't seem to remember anything about the bathhouse. I actually followed her smell here; it had been a mighty feat trying to get to the tunnel. I think it was the smell of her blood that got me going; my dragon instincts were incredibly useful. I wonder how she came across the tunnel again; and to be bleeding, too?

Chihiro and I walk into the movie theatre and sit down to watch the previews. She was right; we are too early. We are the only ones there.

"Give me a hint, please?" Chihiro pleads. I smile at her. She's been adamant on finding out where we've met before; if she couldn't even remember me, I don't think she'll believe me if I told her. Her memory, I note, was getting much better now. She could remember quite a bit of our classmates and has been making a few friends. I've been hoping she'd remember her time at the bathhouse since her memory was improving.

"Don't be a cheater." I reply to Chihiro's begging. She pouts. Little does she know that I've been dropping an insane amount of hints; all the folklore were spirits from the bathhouse, all the settings and conversations I've had with her were told for the purpose of jogging her memory. But, I guess, either her memory hasn't come back, or else she's just really, really dense. I hope for the latter. At least then she has _some_ clue. I figure that if she _really_ can't figure it out, I'll just tell her and hope for the best. I mentally make a note to make a personal deadline for that.

"I'm going to get some popcorn. You want anything?" I ask Chihiro. She tells me to get some candy for her and hands me some money, but I just roll my eyes. I never let her pay for stuff. I actually have quite a bit of money, most of which were stolen from Yubaba's office. This is more or less how I fund my rather leisurely life; gold here seems to be worth more than it does back at the bathhouse.

There isn't a line when I get to the snack bar so I get the food quickly. I walk in long, fast strides back to the movie; Chihiro says that sometimes she can't catch up to my walking speed. I make an effort to keep to her pace, but sometimes I forget.

I sit back down and hand Chihiro her candy and she thanks me. The place is now half-filled and the movie is starting. About thirty minutes into it, I tune out the movie. It's about a well or tape or something… and I look at Chihiro. Her face looks almost exactly like when she was ten, except maybe it's more defined. Her hair is kept at the same just-past-her-shoulders length, only it's down instead of a ponytail most of the time. Chihiro's definitely taller, but she has a weak build. She's less innocent in a sense, but she still has that naïve look I remember so well. Chihiro isn't gorgeous, and she's plain, but her memory condition and probably the spirits she's come in contact with has given her a dreamy expression and somehow that makes her more beautiful than any other person I have ever seen but it still gives me dread because I know she still doesn't remember.

Chihiro is extremely into the movie. Her eyes grow wide with anticipation and she shrieks at the scary parts. It takes me a lot of self-control to not laugh at her. I keep looking at her instead of the movie. I think she's used to my constant staring now. She catches my eyes and I smile sheepishly at her. She gives me a wide grin and her dreamy expression is gone and I see recognition and I almost think she remembers me, not just from the bathhouse but from before as well, and then the moment is gone because her expression is back and I know better anyhow.

And then I feel a heavy stone in my stomach, because Chihiro can't remember me, can't remember what we've been through, can't remember anything that bonds her to me other than the fact that I'm just this random guy who's suddenly following her around and may have met her before… and I feel despair.

-

"I don't understand this." Chihiro groans, slapping her math notebook down on the floor. We are in her living room, doing homework. Well, she is, anyways. She plops back on the sofa and lets out a big, deep sigh. I take her notebook and raise my eyebrows, stifling a chuckle. Chihiro sees this and frowns.

"Oh, okay, smarty-pants. Care to help me?" Chihiro says. She goes out of her way so that she's never mad at me. I don't see this as a flaw.

"Of course." I say, and I pick up her notebook and make a show of examining it. I don't know why she doesn't get math; it's very black and white. It's either right or wrong. I pick up a pencil and jot down all the work for her. All she needs to do is figure out the answer. I throw the notebook back at her. "Here, I think you can figure it out from there."

"_Thank you._" Chihiro says, sounding extremely grateful. I tilt my head a bit to show her welcome. She stands up and takes the pencil out of my hands, then goes back to the sofa to start working it out. Bored, I take some popcorn from the kitchen, come back into the living room, and settle on the floor. I eat the popcorn and watch a movie; humans have, I must admit, a good imagination. Chihiro soon gives up on her math, even with my helpful work, and instead climbs down from the sofa to sit next to me.

A commercial comes on and it's selling estate at a neighborhood; the neighborhood that was built on my river. I start feeling a bit resentful, but then the look on Chihiro's face startles me. She shifts her gaze from the television to me, and mutters quietly, but I can still hear her, "_Kohaku, huh?_"

Suddenly, I have new hope.

-

The thing that really intrigues me is _how_ and _why_ Chihiro can't remember anything. I'm sure (I hope) that Yubaba didn't mess with her mind. This doesn't seem her style. She's too theatrical and flamboyant for this subtlety. I consider going back to the bathhouse for some answers, but I'm afraid I won't be able to cross to the tunnel again even though I can remember my name.

It's one of the few nights I'm not with Chihiro. Secretly, I welcome this change because I'm a bit refreshed from the constant hint-dropping, wondering, looking at her expression for recognition. However, I realize that I miss her smell; Chihiro has a sweet scent, somewhat innocent and surreal. It's a scent that I hold on to dearly.

I'm somewhere in the countryside. I've walked for hours almost aimlessly to find a good place to fly. I would've gotten a cab, but I've found that I hated those vehicles; they were loud and rocky and smelled disgustingly of petrol. I'm very careful to not let anyone see me. I change the air around me; I try to make it lighter, try to make it less heavy. I flex my muscles and feel my skin turn into scales. My eyes and nose grow bigger; already I can see and smell better. The nearest human I can smell is miles away. Good.

I feel the power, strength, enhanced physicality of being a dragon flow within my veins. I let out a whoop of triumph; the sound isn't human-sounding. I soar high up into the sky. The feeling is amazing; I fly higher than the clouds to stay out of sight.

I'm flying for hours and hours on end; the sun come out and makes my eyes sting. I descend down onto the ground, carefully so as to not be spotted, and change back to human-form. I'm walking along the road for a few hours to go to Chihiro's and walk to school. A shooting pain climbs up my arms and legs and chest several times, but I dismiss it, telling myself that it's the heavy air on me that's causing them, and that they'll soon go away as long as I get more used to it.

I walk into Chihiro's house (they usually keep it unlocked in the morning) and the stinging gets worse. Chihiro's in the kitchen eating breakfast, mumbles an enthusiastic greeting to me as she wolfs down her food, and her mother sees me and smiles. "Good morning!"

Chihiro's mother says. "Did you eat breakfast yet? We've got some porridge." I shake my head in response, rubbing my arms where the pain hurts the most and I feel a moment of relief.

A minute later, the pain comes back; it stabs my bones and screams at my muscles. I'm sweating and gasping for breath. It's a cold pain and it overcomes me and makes my vision blurry. It feels like it's at least a hundredfold more painful than before, and I groan, my arms are like stone and I can barely feel anything but the pain is still overwhelming and I can hear Chihiro and her mother panicking and everything's cold and black and painful.

-

I wake up in a white room and I feel numb, but much, much better. I'm in a paper gown that feels very weird and uncomfortable. A tall, skinny lady with a white coat is looming over me. She holds a clipboard in her arms and is glaring at me.

"Mr. Kohaku, do you have medical insurance?" She asks. She has such a low, husky voice that I'm surprised she's so skinny.

"No." I reply.

"Have you been watching any shows when you had an attack of whatever it is you've had? Pokemon, perhaps?"

I tilt my head, looking at her in a way I'm sure she can only describe as incredulous. "_Pokemon?" _I've watched this show before, after Chihiro was introducing me to anime.

"Any drugs, alcohol?" Her voice is almost amused. I don't like this lady.

"No. Of course not." I reply defensively. Where is this lady driving at? Where is Chihiro? Where is her mother?

"Hmm… What is your _real _name, Mr. Kohaku?"

I frown at her. "Excuse me?"

"Well, the name your friend registered you in was a bit _suspicious. _It means spirit of the river or something similar, doesn't it?" The lady peers at me, smirking. She looks like she's caught me stealing cookies before dinner.

"I'm from the countryside. My parents are old-fashioned." I say, hoping this will be a good enough explanation. I'm offended; even though I'm sure she was trying to make a joke about my name. The lady raises her eyebrows, and opens her mouth to say more, but Chihiro's mother storms in with Chihiro trying to keep up by her side and a few nurses running after her.

"Miss, _Miss! You can't be in here!" _One of the nurses is running after her.

"Excuse me," the lady says, frowning at Chihiro's mother, "I know you're worried about Mr. Kohaku here, Mrs. Ogino, but you aren't allowed in here until it's time for visi-"

"Do you realize that you're holding a minor against his parents' consent?" Chihiro's mother interrupts. The nurses are behind her, looking exasperated and unsure of what to do.

"Well, he just had a major muscle contraction. Or a _seizure._ It was an abnormal attack of the _muscles,_ only they were contracted in such a way that makes this 'attack' so _unusual. _Almost as if the air was crushing him. We need him here to study him and see if he gets anymore attacks." The lady says in a rush.

"For his safety." She adds, as an afterthought.

Chihiro's mother frowns in contemplation for a moment as if the lady has a point. But, to my relief, Chihiro's mother instead says, "You can give all the reasons you want _after_ you've had Kohaku's parents' consent. Otherwise I'll sue you."

The lady's mouth turns into a thin line. "Misa," she says to one of the nurses, "get his clothes. I hope you know what you're doing; he may very well have another attack."

"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Chihiro's mother responds.

-

Chihiro has gone to school in the middle of the day after much pestering from her parents. Chihiro's mother has made me stay in their house in case I get another attack. I'm almost sure I won't; there has been no pain since the hospital. I'm sleeping on their couch and I wake up about an hour later, feeling too well-rested to get back to sleep.

I'm watching television when Chihiro's mother comes in with tea. "Hi, Mrs. Ogino. Thanks for everything." I say, taking the tea and drinking it.

"No problem, Haku." She looked thoughtful. I'm not dense and I'm not insensitive; I know to a fair extent of what people's emotions are and how predictable they are. And, true to my suspicions, Chihiro's mother asks, in a carefully measured tone, "Haku; where _are_ your parents?"

"Vacation. Out of the country." I promptly reply with a dispassionate tone. I don't blame her for trying to grill me; but I'd appreciate it if she didn't.

"Oh." Chihiro's mother falls silent and glances at me from the corner of her eyes. I pretend not to notice and drink my tea. In my mind, I'm deliberating my tactics carefully. I'm trying to see which would be more logical; to tell her the truth, or to fabricate my story. On one hand, telling her the truth would mean a load off my chest and (maybe) her help in covering myself up better with the holes in my lies. Of course, there's the likely chance she'll just think I'm a huge liar, or trying to disrespect her, or just have a fever of some sort.

However, Chihiro's mother is a logical and smart person. She's already suspicious and I feel that if it wasn't for the attachment (and memory-driving) relationship with Chihiro and me, she'd already come down on me with a mallet and throw me in a torture chamber to get some answers out of me. Logically, she may be able to accept the truth, or turn the opposite and rationally decline the truth since it is so far-fetched. But I remember that she's been turned into a pig before, so whatever changed Chihiro's brain, which I'm _almost_ sure has to do with the bathhouse, has affected her, at least a little, as well.

I've come to the conclusion that if she's suspicious, I'll give her the truth. However, if she blows it out of proportion, I'll fake a fever (I've never done such a thing, and I'm hoping I'm a good actor). I'll just wait it out and see her reactions.

"The thing is," Chihiro's mom says, "that I have never met your parents. I don't know where you moved from. I don't know your past, your hometown, your parent's _names, _and for the past few months you've been paper and glue with my daughter. I mean, I think I should know at least _something_ substantial about you; your name is about a river and three times as long as anyone else I know! Your hair is _green!_"

Obviously suspicious.

I give her a careful look. "Mrs. Ogino?" I say, tentatively.

"Yes?" It's laden with wonder and excitement; she obviously suspects I'll tell her the truth.

"Can you keep a secret?"

-

Chihiro's mother didn't interrupt me while I spill out a virtual storyline of the whole situation. As I got more into the spirits, and her and her husband turning into pigs (_"So that's why pork repulsed me for ages after the move…")_, her lips got thinner and thinner, and her eyebrows soared high.

"And so, I was flying as a dragon form the other day," Chihiro's mother gives me an alarmed look. "Remember I was the River Spirit? Well, I take the form of a dragon; I don't eat humans, don't worry." This is actually a lie. I ate a human once, but I detested it; he tasted like dishonesty. "And, after a few hours of flying, I started getting pains, and it got worse, and here I am."

Chihiro's mother is looking at me in disbelief. She looks at my green hair, eyes dawdling over the roots, trying to see if it's dyed.

"Let's say," she says, speaking for the first time after my confession. "Let's say that I'm willing to believe. But how can I be sure you're not just making this all up?"

"I can't. You'll have to take my word for it. I can't risk becoming a dragon; I _don't_ want those pains again." I shudder a bit at the thought of it to prove my point.

"Alright; so taking your dragon form is out of the question. You're a river spirit; can't you make a mini-hurricane or something?"

I look at her with wide eyes. "Actually," I say, "that might be possible."

I go to the kitchen, with Chihiro's mother behind me, disbelief and wonder absolutely radiating from her. I fill a bowl with water, and start heating the water in all the right places. I start adding in wind, and pressure, and soon there is a foot-long hurricane in the Ogino's kitchen.

Chihiro's mother is gaping at me. Her fingers are moving around the hurricane, trying to find an explanation. When she could find none, she presses her hand against her mouth.

"Oh, my."

-

Author's Note: So, yes, Chihiro's mom now knows. Also, the Pokemon reference was a bit of personal humor on my side; I was thinking of what people would think that Haku suffered, and I thought, hey, a seizure, and I was researching it a bit (I'm a research freak; I research everything) and out pops Pokemon; turns out there's an episode (that's never been aired in USA and is banned) that had so many explosions and colorful, fast moving images, that hundreds of Japanese (when it aired) children had seizures as they were watching it.

So that's my trying to put fun, random trivia, and more importantly (nah, trivia's my thing), Japanese culture into this. I really try to refrain from putting like, American stuff in there, though I might slip up once in a while.

Also, REVIEW, PLEASE! Review means awesomeness. Sorry to beg, but I _want_ reviews! Reviews means more inspiration… and that means faster chapters… and and… yeeeah….! I enjoy constructive criticism!

Updated: 7/29/09 Revised grammar mistakes and diction. Also, I lost my outline for this, but I'll see if I can remember the general gist of it all.


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